Cracked Shell
by ccolfer
Summary: It's not a dragon egg, Kurt's sure of it, despite Finn so vehemently trying to convince him that it is. Dragon!Blaine.


CHAPTER ONE

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><p>"It's an egg." Finn helpfully supplies as he leans over Kurt's shoulder and inspects the <em>thing<em>. Kurt is still frozen in place, staring down at the huge, oval-shaped, _supposed_ egg, his eyes wide with no small amount of trepidation swimming in the glasz orbs.

But it can't be.

"I didn't order an _egg_, Finn!" is what he finally says without averting his eyes. It, whatever _'it_' is — no, it's not a freaking egg —, might move, so best to be alert.

The snappy tone doesn't deter his idiotic step-brother. "Duuude, I'm telling you, this looks just like the eggs in the video games I play. They appear when you breed your dragons, but eggs with this particular color scheme are really rar—"

That's when Kurt stops listening. Finn is delusional and Kurt is going to have to talk to Carole about her son's mental health. Maybe she should confiscate his consoles for some time because he's clearly unable to differentiate between virtual and real world. Finn should know that they don't live in some sort of medieval era, even though Lima, Ohio may be a little...well. Doubts inspiring, to say the least.

"— and when you put the egg in a warm place, the dragon usually hatches within a few days. We should totally put it in the oven to speed up the process!"

Kurt is snapped out of his musings and rolls his eyes, letting out an annoyed huff. "We're not putting it in the oven, Finn." he deadpans. Seriously, how dumb is the guy? Thank god they aren't blood related.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about cooking the little dragon baby. The shell is thick enough to protect it. I know because the dragons in my game all live at the foot of a volcano. We'll just have to be careful to take it out when it starts to crack."

"It's not a fucking dragon!" he yells and whirls around to stare Finn down despite being the smaller of the two, finally loosing his temper. "Stop being delusional. These are the Jimmy Choo boots I ordered and the alleged egg is the packaging because designers tend to be a little eccentric sometimes. Get over your stupid dragon fantasy!"

Without waiting for Finn to answer, he bends down to pick the box containing his lovely new boots up and ascends the stairs to his room. He doesn't mention that it may be a little too heavy for boots because that would just support Finn's farfetched theory.

When he reaches his room he's breathing heavily, his arms hurt and his forehead is a little damp with perspiration. He puts the box down at the foot of his bed and walks into his en-suite. The shoes can wait for another hour, they won't disappear, and a shower is very much in order, partly to wash the sweat from a whole day of yard work off, but mostly to relax his tense muscles.

He strips, puts his clothes in the hamper and steps into the spacious shower. The hot water pounds down on his back, relieving his tension, and Kurt just short of moans at the welcome pressure. Maybe he should book an appointment for a massage or something. And he could take Carole with him to have some bonding time. They could maybe make a weekend trip out of it, a shopping spree followed by a visit to their favorite spa...

It sounds like a wonderful idea.

When the water starts to turn uncomfortably cold, Kurt reaches for a towel and wraps it around his body so he resembles a human burrito and walks back into his room to search for some comfy clothes. His dad should be home soon and he wants to get started on dinner a little earlier since Carole isn't there to help him, working the late shift at the hospital.

Decked in yoga pants and an oversized hoodie that may or may not have once belonged to Finn, he walks into the kitchen and starts preparing a healthy meal, earning him a betrayed look from Finn when he comes in to steal food. _Boys_...

"What even is this?" his step-brother asks, pointing at the vegetable Kurt is cutting into small pieces.

He wants to be annoyed because _everyone_ should know what celery looks like, but it somehow is endearing, how Finn manages to be so oblivious. "It's celery, doofus." he answers. "And yes, you _are_ going to eat it." he adds when he notices Finn wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Before Finn can argue, the front door opens and the distinctively loud thumps of Burt's heavy boots can be heard coming closer before he pokes his head through the door, a grease stain on his cheek.

"Hey kiddos," Burt greets them and sniffs the air. "Steak, mmm" he discerns and smiles.

"With celery. Go wash up, dinner's almost ready." Kurt laughs at his dad's groan and turns back to the stove. What's everyone's problem with celery? It's healthy, zero calorie food... but if they had their way they'd probably live on a diet consisting of chips and donuts, ew.

...

"So, my boots came in the mail today." Kurt shares as the three of them sit down and start loading their plates with food. He kicks Finn under the table when he opens his mouth to add his two cents, making him shut up immediately.

Idiot.

Burt sighs deeply. "And you're absolutely, one hundred percent sure that you _definitely_ needed another pair?" he asks dubiously and raises a suspicious eyebrow. Though, to be honest, he knows what Kurt's answer will be and has already resigned himself to the fact that another few hundred dollars have been spent on wholly unnecessary shoes that Kurt's going to wear twice a year, tops.

Yep. "Yes, they'll go exceptionally well with my Alexander McQueen pants." Kurt replies convincingly, nodding his head along.

"Sure." Burt rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything else, used to his son's antics. Kurt just shakes his head. His dad wouldn't understand. But as long as he funds his shopping sprees, Kurt doesn't really see a problem with that.

"Oh! I'll need your help opening the carton. I don't know what they were thinking, but it doesn't have a lid. Finn thinks it's an egg." he says derisively, side-eyeing his step-brother who just shrugs and continues to wolf down his meal.

His dad gives him a weird look. Kurt looks back calmly until his father finally concedes. "Okay."

Kurt may have squealed. He really has the best dad.

...

After they're done with dinner and the dishes have been washed, dried and put in their rightful place, Kurt leads his dad up to his room at last, vibrating with nerves. These boots had been on his wish list for so long until he was able to buy them at a reasonable price and to wait a minute longer to open the box would be two minutes too many. Or something.

When they reach Kurt's room Burt pushes the door open before immediately slamming it shut again and leaning heavily against it.

"It's an egg."

_Oh my god_. Kurt's so close to banging his head against the wall in exasperation. What is it with people and their weird fixation on eggs and dragons and stuff that generally does _not_ exist?! "It's not."

"Kurt, I hate to say this, and believe me, I'd love to unsee it, but it's an egg." He hesitates for a second. "Or should I say it was?"

"What?" Seriously, _what_?!

"It hatched. There's a tiny dragon sitting on your bed."

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><p>Please review :) The next update will hopefully be soon!<p> 


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